Quiet Time
by Dr Namgge
Summary: With no cases to work on, and Charmy out of the office, Espio and Vector are left alone together. But while they work well together, do they actually have anything at all in common? ONESHOT


The ceiling had two hundred and seventeen tiles on it. Probably meant to be an even two hundred and twenty, but Charmy had knocked three off a while ago, and Vector hadn't gotten around to replacing them.

Vector was counting the tiles out of boredom. The battery had died on his music player some time ago, leaving him without his music, and therefore nothing to do in his own office. The office had been tidied, made dust free and organised, all the post had been sorted, and even the filing had been done. It had been a very slow month for the Chaotix detective agency, and Vector had firmly run out of things to do.

Espio was faring much better, at least now that Charmy had been sent off on an unnecessary mission. This was Vector's idea of course; anything for a moment of peace. The chameleon was, as he was always when inactive, meditating inward, in another effort to reach that blissful nirvana.

But as far as Vector was concerned, this made Espio very dull company. As a colleague and an employee, Espio was invaluable to Vector's organisation, a highly skilled ninja who could sneak just about anywhere undetected, that was absolutely perfect for a detective agency. But as someone to talk to, or to provide entertainment, Vector would have to admit Espio was really dull.

Still, Vector was desperate. "Say Espio," he said, his quiet voice loudly punctuating the silence in the room, "how d'ya cope with the tedium of doin' nothin'?"

Espio stood unflinching, his gaze unending on its original target, "I meditate," the chameleon uttered quietly.

"I got that," Vector said, not entirely sure if Espio was being sarcastic, "What I mean is what do you actually meditate on?"

This got the chameleon's attention. He looked towards his boss, the green crocodile lurched forwards in the office chair and said "Meditation is art of clearing your mind, and seeking enlightenment through inward thought."

"And that's it?"

"There's a lot more to it than that, but that is essentially what I'm doing."

"And how long does it take?" the crocodile asked.

"It's not a question of time," Espio replied, "It's a question of discipline. To clear your head of everything. To be able to achieve an empty mind. Only then can you truly focus."

"And you manage that with Charmy here?" Vector said, somewhat impressed with the idea.

"Sometimes," the chameleon answered, as he turned back to facing forwards, "But to be able to achieve that state of nirvana in the face of such an obstacle, that is a true testament to ones discipline."

"Really?" Vector replied, "I find just turning the headphones up to max works."

The chameleon thought on that comment for a moment. Leaning back against the wall of the office he considered Vector's ideology, before dismissing it, "But then you are not truly focused in spite of the distraction. If anything you have just made yourself vulnerable as you are no longer fully aware of your surroundings."

"That'd be right, if we were in a fight," the crocodile answered immediately, "but in a place like this..."

"You should always be alert, especially in a place like this!" the chameleon interrupted, throwing a shuriken inches from where the crocodile's head was. It was an intentional miss on the ninja's part, a warning shot, not meant to harm, and one that took considerably more skill than simply hitting the crocodile would've.

Vector jumped immediately. "Whaddya think ya doin'!" he said as he pulled the blade out the wall, "you could'a killed me! Not only that but ya dented my wall!"

Espio said nothing. He went back to focusing on his meditation. Vector looked at him annoyed, but calmed himself down slowly. He reclined back into his chair, but kept one eye on his associate as the crocodile examined the weapon. It was a small knife, designed for throwing, and easy concealment. It was meant for stabbing and slicing, not cutting, and probably wasn't strong enough to do any serious damage if used like a regular blade. Instead it relied on the momentum of the attacker, and the physics of flight, over the sheer force of the conventional blade.

"Want this back?"

The chameleon said nothing, but he walked over. His face was still expressionless, but his eyes did not make contact with Vector's. Espio picked the blade off the desk, wiped it once, then slotted it back into a spring loaded compartment on his left wrist.

"Ya realise there's times when it's better ta be thinkin' right?"

"Hmm?"

Vector looked at Espio confidently. "We're a detective agency. We get paid ta think!"

"In those times," Espio replied, "our minds should be clear and focused, so we can use our minds to figure out what happened and why."

"I find," Vector replied, "sometimes it's better to let your mind open. You remember the case of the fake emeralds?"

Espio nodded.

"I never would'a figured that they'd been cloned if we'd not heard that fox talkin' 'bout fighting a clone of his self." The crocodile said as he walked around to the front of his desk, "We were all so sure that someone had been makin' 'em, that it took overhearin' an unrelated conversation ta solve it."

"That might work for you," Espio relented, "But I find that keeping calm at all times works."

"Espio," Vector said, now stood directly infront of the chameleon, "I'm not tryin' ta make ya change yer mind."

"Then why the sudden interest in how I think?"

"Jus' idle curiosity is all!" the crocodile replied, as he carried on walking to the other side of his office. He walked towards a filing cabinet, and began digging through some old case files. "I jus' worry 'bout how you can be so quiet when everythin's so..."

"Chaotic?" the chameleon smirked.

"Yeah."

"It's just something I've trained myself to do. Have done from a young age." Espio answered, his head now looking down at the floor.

"But how did ya learn 'bout it?"

Espio fell silent again. He closed his eyes and began to focus. It was obvious to both of them that he didn't want to answer.

Vector picked up on this too. He had already found the file he was after, and decided to slam the cabinet shut as loudly as he could, if only to get the lizard to look at him. Vector held the file forwards.

Espio looked at it. He tried to get a good look at what the file was, but Vector's huge hands had obscured the names, so all the chameleon could see was a generic beige file folder, identical to the dozens Vector kept under lock and key in the office.

"Espio, there's summat I wanted to ask ya about for a real long time." The crocodile said quietly.

The door banged open loudly "Hey guys," a very excited and hyperactive bee loudly declared, "you'll never guess what!" the bee said, as he barged into the office right between Vector and Espio.

"What is it Charmy?" Vector asked, as he shoved the file out of sight from the bee.

"Well go on then!" the bee enthused, "guess! Oh, also Vector, I got your batteries!"

The crocodile grinned, and caught a packet, He ripped them open eagerly, and put them into his music player, tossing the old ones in a waste paper bin. Immediately music began to blare through the headphones. Vector had missed the sound.

Espio stood patiently, watching the bee flirt around the room, keeping track of where the file was. As the bee darted around, the chameleon saw the crocodile put the file back in the cabinet, unable to see from his position where in the cabinet it went, or ever what it was.

"If you're not gonna guess then I'll just have to say!"

"Then just say it!" Vector said, he was already getting annoyed again.

"We got a case! It's a doozy too, something about a whole zone completely vanishing."

Vector's eyes lit up. This would pay big. But then he looked back at the chameleon and remembered what had just gone on. "We'll finish this off later," he said to the ninja.

The chameleon simply nodded. He continued to show no emotion, but for the first time in a very long time, the lizard was unable to focus. Once again, his past seemed to be haunting him.

Vector was happier. Paid work was his favourite kind of work. He finally had music and something to do. And most of all, he was sure that just by pulling a random file, acting seriously, and leaving the lizard curious, he would leave Espio confused.


End file.
